2021/5782
Just last week as we were preparing for Parashat Shemot, my 5 year old daughter remarked that next week’s Parashah is so exciting as it’s the one with the Makkot. Indeed, our Parashah is among the most exciting as we read about the first seven Makkot Hashem brought upon Egypt. Yet right before the Makkot begin, the story is interrupted with what seems like tangential details describing the lineage of Moshe Rabbeinu and Aharon HaKohein. Why is this the appropriate time for the family tree? Additionally, the genealogical list begins (Shemot 6:14) describing the families of Reuven and Shimon, culminating with Shevet Levi. Now, as Rashi clarifies, the purpose of this list is to establish the background of Moshe and Aharon, making the mention of Reuven and Shimon’s completely unnecessary. Why didn’t the Torah simply establish the relevant family history of the new leaders of Klal Yisrael as descendants of Levi without mentioning anyone else?
Many Mefarshim grapple with the issue. Rashi, for example, explains that Yaakov Avinu chastised these three Shevatim in Parashat VaYechi; thus, the Torah wants to remind us that despite such rebuke these families are still “Chashuvim,” important. However, I suggest that when we look closely at the Pesukim, we will find a critical contrast between Levi and his older brothers that can explain the significance of mentioning the family trees of Reuven and Shimon now and what it takes to lead Klal Yisrael out of slavery.
There’s one word that’s added when introducing the Bnei Levi that’s omitted when describing the Bnei Reuven and Shimon, and what a significant word it is. “Ve'Eileh Shemot Bnei Levi,” “these are the names of Levi’s children” (Shemot 6:16). Although the Torah describes a list of names, only the children of Levi are introduced with the phrase “these are the names.” What’s behind this contrast? Why do some names deserve to be referred to as Shemot while others don’t? As we will demonstrate, a Shem is not only a name, it represents an identity and purpose. Someone aware and confident in their direction in life can be said to have a Shem; after all, the letters Shin and Mem also spell the word “Sham,” there, perhaps hinting that one with a Shem is someone who has a destination to reach. In fact, if you noticed in last week’s Parashah, the Parashah of names, we find a list of the Shemot of the twelve Shevatim, while when we fast forward it seems like no one else has a name. Let’s see some examples. “VaYeilech Ish MiBeit Levi VaYikach Et Bat Levi,” “A man from the house of Levi marries a girl from the house of Levi” (Shemot 2:1). When Amram and Yocheved have a son, they don’t explicitly name him. “Ish Mitzri Makeh Ish Ivri,” “An Egyptian man smote an Israelite man” (Shemot 2:11). When Moshe saw the two Jewish men fighting, their names weren’t mentioned. Again and again, we find the characters nameless, and perhaps the reason is that when we are enslaved, we struggle to find our true identity or our true purpose. Yet, when two brave midwives stand up to Paroh to defend our right to live, they are given names, Shifrah and Pu’ah, and when Bat Paroh was overtaken with compassion for the lost Jewish child, she does not establish her own identity; she is even able to name another, giving Moshe his name.
When we begin the story of our redemption we must be aware of the character it takes to make it happen: confidence, self-awareness, the courage to face adversity to achieve your destiny and live up to your name. Time and time again, Shevet Levi demonstrates a willingness to risk all to stand up for what’s right. The only Shevet to protest against the golden calf and the Shevet to bring about the Chanukah miracle, Bnei Levi, in contrast to their brothers, have a Shem, a purpose, and a mission. Let us all realize and live up to our God-given Shem.